Draco's Yearning
by OhMisterBird
Summary: Sometimes you don't miss someone until they aren't there. Draco finds an unlikely romance.


Draco was not used to this.

All this stupid mucking about, being in love! Oh, love! He hated it. He hated the butterflies in his stomach, the way his skin flushed to slightly less pale, the sweat on his palms as he clutched his wand, the way he paid extra attention to his hair in the morning (which, by the way, looked damned good). How dare someone inspire such weakness in him! He was running around like a fool, like a chicken with his head cut off.

_This is how a Weasley must feel on a good day,_ he thought to himself. He straightened his tie in the mirror, and looked over his room to make sure it was clean. That was something he did every day now, make sure his corner of his dormitory was spotless. Blankets tucked in perfectly, trunk situated neatly beneath the bed. It wasn't always this way; he used to leave things disheveled, an absolute mess. Books and socks everywhere. Bottles of hair bleach left open and sideways on the floor. Just so he could catch a glimpse of that damned little-

_CRACK! _

Dobby appeared in the center of the room, holding a mop and a bucket, and an accessory belt around his slight waist with all sorts of different cleaners. Draco stiffened, in more ways than he'd like to admit.

"Hello, Master Malfoy, sir," Dobby said. Things had been so awkward between them ever since Dobby had left the Malfoy house. It took the little twit's absence for Draco to realize how much he'd come to… no, not love. Not love! Draco didn't love, he was too cool, too aloof…

"Dobby," Draco said, nodding curtly. He walked out of the room, feigning indifference. Unsure of what to do, he headed for the common room. Now seemed a perfect time for making Crabbe or Goyle give him one of those non-gay friend hand jobs.

At dinner that evening, Pansy Parkinson sat next to Draco. She began talking, something Draco knew wouldn't stop until he either left abruptly or she died.

"And I said, 'You're just a snotty little Ravenclaw, what do you know about _fashion_ anyways?' And she just looked at me with that stupid haircut of hers. Honestly, first years…" she said, not stopping between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

"Yes, yes," Draco said, absently. This pumpkin bread he was eating… did Dobby prepare it? This gravy? This pudding…

"The Hufflepuffs are organizing a donation campaign for the less fortunate. Honestly they're so _boring_, I can't even look at them without falling asleep immediately."

"I'm sure that's true," Draco said. Suddenly Pansy's eyes lit up and she leaned in close.

"Want to go, like, shag by the kitchens? The Hufflepuff common room is right near there, and they'll, like, absolutely DIE if they hear us! They're all so ugly, I bet they don't even know what sex is! They're so pathetic!" She said, her irritating laugh entering Draco's head, bouncing around his skull. He was about to say no, but then he remembered: the elves worked in the kitchens…

"Yes. Yes, lets go right now." He said, standing up.

"But, like, dinner isn't even over yet, yeah?" She said, looking confused.

"I want to go know. I want… er, you." He said, forcing the words out of his mouth. Hearing that he wanted her made Pansy's face light up in a way he rarely saw. She jumped up and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the dining hall.

Pretending he was doing anything but, Draco shoved her against the stone wall by the entryway to the kitchens.

"I, um, want you real bad," Draco said flatly, wondering how she could mistake him at all for genuine.

"Oh, naughty boy!" Pansy laughed, her high pitched dragon-squeal bouncing around the hall. "Come here, I'm going to give you the romp of your life!" Pulling at his belt from beneath his robes, he tried to summon up some feelings of arousal. He was having much difficulty until he realized the portrait concealing the kitchen was opening. Out came none other than Dobby.

Suddenly very eager, Draco shoved his tongue down Pansy's throat before Dobby saw him. When he reckoned Dobby had seen, he pulled away in faux surprise.

"Oh, Dobby, I didn't see you there!" He exclaimed, his full five (and a half!) inches of manhood emerging from his robes. "Care to join?" He said, winking.

"Draco, you're so funny!" Pansy squealed, hitting him on the shoulder with her stupid fucking hand. But what Pansy didn't notice is that Dobby's mouth opened halfway, unsure of what to say, and his bright green eyes widened in what Draco though, no, _knew_, was desire.

Over the next week, Draco made sure to be at the site of every house-elf-required event. Every time a cauldron cracked in the Potion's classroom, Draco was there. Every evening after dinner, when the elves came in to sweep, Draco was there. Every time a first year puked in the Great Hall because Draco cast a spell on them to make them puke, Draco was there. He savored those moments, watching the little elf bend over to clear up crumbs and spilled juices.

Monday was room cleaning day, at 3pm sharp. Draco knew this because Sunday evening was when he made sure to straighten his things. He did this because he liked to think that come Monday, when Dobby appeared in his room to tidy up, he would be impressed by the order with which Draco kept his things.

This Monday was different, though. Draco couldn't take it any longer. Couldn't take the longing, the sexual frustration, the… well, not love. No. He didn't love.

He ordered all of his roommates to "Get out you stupid fucking wankers, I have things to do today that require privacy."

As the clock approached 3, Draco quickly undressed. At 2:59, he threw himself onto his bed, assuming a posture of relaxation. The very sound of the _CRACK_ aroused him immediately. He glanced up in what he thought was a casual way to where the elf stood, in the middle of the room. Suddenly swearing and scrambling to get up, Draco covered himself with pillows.

"_WINKY? _What are _you _doing here? Usually my room is cleaned by- "

"Dobby requested he be assigned to another room, sir," Winky said. Winky, the opposite of sex appeal.

"Why?" Draco asked, infuriated.

"He felt it was a conflict of interest, sir. I heard him telling the head elf. Sometimes elves feel they are too fond of the inhabitants of the rooms they are cleaning… and it distracts them from their work, sir. Dobby was too distracted." Winky said.

A sudden joy leapt into Draco's chest. So Dobby did feel the same! The damned elf was so good at concealing his emotions, Draco could never quite tell… but here was the proof.

"Where is he now, Winky? I order you to tell me!" Draco asked, urgently.

"I believe Harry Potter's room, sir!" She replied.

Stampeding through the halls, Draco made it up to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?" The fat lady asked.

"Oh for fucks sake, just let me in!" Draco yelled.

"Fair enough," she said, swinging open. A nearby Neville Longbottom's jaw dropped in surprise and anger, his list of passwords clutched in his hand…

Shoving his way through upset Gryffindors, Draco ran up to Harry's room. Shoving open the door, he saw Harry and Ron, both shirtless.

"I rather fancy your trousers, Ron," Harry was in the middle of saying, a stupid smile on his face. Their heads both snapped to look at him.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Ron said, pulling a shirt over his slightly flabby stomach in a hurry.

"Where's your cleaning elf?" Draco demanded.

"He doesn't get here til four, you stupid prat. Get out of our room!" Harry shouted. Draco rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Stupify!" He yelled, knocking out both Harry and Ron. He had about fifteen minutes. He dragged them both into Harry's closet and hid them amongst a pile of robes.

Quickly undressing and throwing himself upon Harry's bed, he assumed the same position he was in earlier.

_CRACK!  
><em>"Mr. Draco, sir! What are you doing here?" Dobby exclaimed, reddening.

"I think you know why I'm here, Dobby." Draco said, smirking and getting up to approach the elf. Kneeling down, he took Dobby's face in his hands.

"Dobby, I order you…" Draco began.

"Sir?" Dobby said, trembling.  
>"… to love me." Draco finished.<p>

And so it was, Draco and Dobby, until the very end.

Or, well, until Draco got bored and started making unusually frequent trips to visit Buckbeak.


End file.
